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Chapter 3:

Arrival at Dusk

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While walking to Dawnstar, I needed a way to entertain myself to pass the time, so I named the Greater Chaurus.

Only a small part of me said that I shouldn't, that I would eventually sacrifice them; I ignored it. While they didn't have a good sense of the passage of time, the oldest Chaurus felt she'd been alive for a long time, so until I could research how they matured and lived, I assumed Chaurus lived for years.

Additionally, I wasn't about to sacrifice my boys and girls needlessly, especially not the littlest buggy dear perched on the back of my cloak, squeaking and chirping over my shoulder at all the new sights he was seeing. My Chaurus were beautiful, strong, and kind; anyone who wanted to kill me or them would quickly find themselves suffering a terminal case of the deads.

But I still only named the Greater Chaurus, telling the other nine I would name them once they pupated and matured. They seemed [happy] with the decision, which made me smile. I was happy that I wasn't alone.

I named each of the Greater Chaurus after a name from my memories.

The oldest was a female that was taller than I was, with pale yellow eyes and a serious disposition; she disliked the younger female's pranking and distracted nature, and worked hard to enforce a marching order with her brethren, taking point as we walked along the rocky shores of the Pale, with a male at her side and two others in the forest.

The sleds and lesser Chaurus, and the younger female Greater, walked with me, the remaining male skirting the ridge at the edge of the beach; I approved of her choice, and contented myself with walking in the middle of the pack.

I named the older female Skitter, for the chittering of her teeth and the way she tended to skitter quickly on four legs when not flying. I also admit I laughed when she [approved] of the name, and held her head higher after her naming.

The four males I named after Rachel's dogs; none of them were too intelligent, but all of them were fiercely loyal to me, going so far as to warn their lesser kin against trying to nibble me, something I knew they wanted to do; the little guys couldn't help themselves, as it was their nature.

The tallest one was Judas, while I favored his stocky brother, the one I first met, with the name Bentley. The remaining two were Bullet and Twinkie; the first was fast on both legs and wings, and the other seemed to enjoy food (I had to stop Twinkie from licking everything in sight).

Judas stayed close to Skitter, usually, while Bullet and Twinkie enjoyed terrorizing a deer that came too close to our group… and a large bear, as well.

The hides, antlers and claws were added to the sleds, and my Chaurus feasted on fresh meat while I nibbled a loaf of stale bread with butter, while the bright sun made its way from west to east.

Bentley tended to keep to himself, but always kept one antennae pointed in my direction.

And then there was… Imp.

The youngest female liked flitting about whenever I wasn't looking, always coming back with a shiny rock or a flower or some of those noisy, glowing, lettuce-looking plants. She, and all the Chaurus really, were in wonder at their surroundings; none of them had ever seen the world before, and were eager to explore with me.

Personally… I liked the Pale. What I could see of it, anyway.

The weather was warmer than the night I arrived, and steamy runoff was trickling over the stony beaches from the craggy forests; I took that to mean spring was close. The Sea of Ghosts smelled salty and sharp, contrasting nicely with the sappy smell of the evergreen trees Bullet and Twinkie were flitting through. The flowers Imp found for me smelled nice, and the common bugs, while a little larger and more vibrant than I could remember, informed me that the world I was in wasn't all dark and dreary.

I felt… that I would like living in Skyrim.

Imp chittered [delight] at me again, along with a [food] alert from Skitter; looking ahead, the little tyke on my shoulder clicking his mandibles in [interest], I saw… something.

It was ugly as sin, with short tusks and a wrinkled, fleshy body, beady little eyes set in a face that looked like it got hit with the Ugly Rock; it was also growling and barking at both me and the Chaurus, who all began snapping their claws and thumping their butts back at it. The thing, whatever it was, seemed to be guarding its catch of trout.

Not wanting to spill any blood needlessly, remembering that we had plenty of food on the sled, and knowing that none of my Chaurus were hungry, I told Skitter to skirt around the thing; if it attacked, we'd disabuse its notions of thinking us tasty snacks.

It did attack, when Judas' glaring seemed to spurn the sausage-creature to blubbery action.

The beast didn't taste much like sausage, but at least I knew where the dried meat I ate in the pit came from, when I made a small fire with Habd's flint and tinder and settled down for a light lunch. I'd have to ask someone what they were called… once I met someone, anyway.

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Night was falling, and I was becoming tired, when I spotted the mainmast of a ship.

"Finally," I breathed to myself, rubbing my aching stump under my cloak; my shoulder-Chaurus was curled up with the eggs, along with most of the youngsters. The air might've been humid, but my companions preferred darker, warmer conditions than what I just marched them through.

Luckily, there was a lovely grotto near the town, hidden in the crags; Skitter and Bullet dealt with the resident bear, and were settling the egg sled in its warm depths. There was a natural spring feeding a large pool, and some shimmering stones on the interior walls; once I knew more about the world, I'd figure out what those were, but first I needed to make a good impression.

Imp was to my right with Bentley, whistling in [interest] at the smells of the town ahead. Two of the younger Chaurus were to my left, pulling the sled that held Habd's family, the Falmer's weapons, and some of the salvage from the pit, and Judas was hiding in the trees that surrounded the town, ready to intervene if things got messy. I really, really hoped no one panicked.

The smell of fireplaces, cooking food, the sound of voices… it all came together and made me teary-eyed. For two days, I'd had nothing but my bugs to keep me company. As my powers couldn't control the Falmer, I deduced that I couldn't control people anymore. I was desperate to hear someone talk.

A guard was making his rounds over my way, to the north-east of the town, so I lowered my hood and strode forward fearlessly, making sure my Chaurus kept slightly behind me as I walked around one last crag and into the guard's sight. He stiffened and drew his bow at the sight of me, and I took a moment to examine him.

He was wearing a white sash over thick leather and chainmail, and his face was hidden by a full-face helmet; a wooden round-shield held some kind of pointed cross, which I spotted repeated on the sash. The symbol of Dawnstar I presumed.

Then Imp bounded around the corner and hissed warningly at the poor man, who cursed softly and drew an arrow.

Pursing my lips, I decided to diffuse the situation, and barked at Imp, "You get your buggy butt back in line, young lady," her antennae wilted as she looked between me and the guard, who seemed surprised by what I just said; Imp was [concerned], but I wasn't having it, "No, he's not going to hurt me, because we're not here to hurt him. Bentley," I kept going, loud enough for the guard to hear, Imp's stocky brother leaping to her side and nodding his antennae at me in [understanding], "Good boy."

I turned back to the guard and raised my arms, opening my cloak to show I was both armed and not here for a fight, "Good evening, sir; I'm sorry about them, they're very protective of me. My name is Khepri. I bring news from the lighthouse up the coast, where I defeated a little over a dozen Falmer and liberated these Chaurus from their clutches. They are mine."

The guard seemed shocked into motionlessness; was it something I said, or my manner of dress? Was it the sword, or the sled?

"What in Shor's name happened to your arm, lass?" the man gruffly asked, his heavy accent doing nothing to mask the stunned and slightly suspicious tone, his helmeted face looking between me and Imp, who was giving the guard's bow a stink-eye.

I blinked at his rather tactless question, and looked at my stump. The first words spoken to me since Contessa, and they were about something unimportant.

Looking dryly back at the guard, I told him calmly, "It was like that when I woke up, on the edge of the Sea of Ghosts," he jerked in surprise, but I plowed on, "I can control insects of all types, so I'm fairly sure the Chaurus didn't do it."

"Bori! What's going on over there?" another voice shouted, making the guard's head nearly spin off his shoulder as he looked between me and his compatriot.

'This might take a while,' I thought as I patiently and calmly introduced myself all over again, while on the other end of a few drawn bows and swords.

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I was only partially right. It was two hours before I was settled in a room at Dawnstar's inn, a warm bowl of stew on my lap.

Eventually, between my insistence of nonviolence and ensuring the Chaurus didn't posture too much, someone managed to inform the Jarl of my sudden appearance.

It was thus I was introduced, with Bentley at my side, to one Jarl Skald. I wished I could say the encounter was pleasant. It was not.

On one hand, the man who held in his hands the fate of life and death for the two hundred people living in Dawnstar, and the Pale, didn't care about Habd or his family. In his own sneered words, "If the Redguard idiot wanted a place to retire, he should've taken his brats back to his own country." Happily, the rest of the important townspeople, who gathered in the longhouse to hear my tale, managed to convince the heartless man to give the people a proper burial.

Even getting Sudi, Mani and Ramati that was like pulling teeth with the Jarl; it was easier to explain that, as a crippled veteran who couldn't remember anything of her origins, I simply wanted to retire, and was willing to lend my remaining arm, and my Chaurus, in defense of the town, in exchange for assistance from the smith – for the apiary I was planning to build – and a roof over my head, at least until I gathered enough money to move to other lands.

He gave me some gold coins, for "dealing with those pesky, godless Falmer," and waved me away.

Luckily for me, the townspeople disliked Skald – I would only use the honorific if I was in his presence – as much as I did, and were more empathic than he was.

The innkeeper, a handsome single father by the name of Thoring, confessed that he'd spoken with Habd not a week ago regarding skeevers, which were basically large rats. His daughter (and the inn's bard), Karita, seemed upset at the idea of the Falmer being so close to Dawnstar, and was the one to suggest putting me up until I could afford a place of my own.

"Aren't you frightened of the Chaurus?" I asked what I felt was a good question, though Imp ruined it by trying to pounce on a firefly while we walked from the longhouse to the inn.

No one was terribly surprised or frightened by my abilities; if anything, the knowledge that I could sense and direct any insect in a wide radius seemed to make people happy. That the flea and weevil populations across the town were being swiftly reduced seemed to make everyone very accepting of my presence in the Hold capital.

Before being shown to my room by Abelone, the inn's maid, I was first examined by Erandur, a priest of Mara, and the first Dunmer I ever met. He was a kind if somewhat careworn man, and I was forced to admit, in the privacy of my thoughts, that I found the Dark Elf rather handsome.

"Well, there's nothing I can do about the arm, as it's healed over quite well," I sighed as the watery, warm feeling of the golden light in his hands left my stump and the red-gold robed Elf folded his arms with a smile on his goateed face, "Other than needing a good meal and some rest, you're in fine health Miss Khepri."

"My memories?" I asked softly, standing from the bench in the inn's common room and returning his smile with a hopeful one of my own. I'd sent the salvage, Imp, Bentley and the two youngsters back to the cave in the forest; Judas was standing guard at the grotto's entrance, and I'd found some wasps in the fields south of Dawnstar, so I wasn't without some protection. I'd piss off the local merchants once I had a good night's rest.

Erandur shook his head regretfully, "Alas, that's not my area of expertise; I know you've suffered a blow to the head, but I'm not a specialist. There might be someone at the College, but that's a fairly long and unsafe road, given your physical condition. The best I can do is suggest you pray to the Divines for clarity, rest, and hope for the best."

He left me with a book, Ten Commands, Nine Divines, and with a "Mara bless you", left me to the mercy of the remaining townsfolk.

The children were especially curious what happened in the deep of the lighthouse, but, seeing the disgruntled looks on the faces of their parents, I smilingly replied with, "I had my bugs sting the Falmer and sent them fleeing into the sea. They won't bother anyone in the future. And if they come here, I'll give them all the fleas."

That went over well. Hearing the laughter of children was nice.

The only other people who spoke with me that evening were the town blacksmiths: Rustleif, a rugged middle-aged Nord with naturally grey hair, and his wife, Seren, a noble-faced Redguard with dark hair.

Well, spoke was a little strong. More like assaulted me with a tape measure and questions about what I was looking for in a prosthetic. It was through breathlessly answering their questions that I found Seren knew of the family at Frostflow Lighthouse, and both husband and wife regretted not being able to do anything for them; thus, as the one who avenged them – and promised honey for the town come summertime – they were willing to go the extra mile to help me.

The stew was delicious, and the bed was warm. My Chaurus were happy, and, honestly, so was I. Even though toilet paper wasn't a thing in Dawnstar, at least sewers were, as was hot water.

Stripping out of my clothes, I climbed into musky fur blankets; I was safe, the people seemed to trust me and were eager to help me, and the night was warm, so I slept in the nude, hiding the twenty wasps I'd gathered in nooks and crannies, my blade propped against the bedside table next to a stack of books.

The room was small, and simple; a bed, bedside table with a candle, a desk and chair, an alcove with a hole that aspired to be a toilet. No tub or shower, but a bucket would serve fine until I found somewhere with indoor plumbing; I heard three of the other Hold capitals, including the national capital, Solitude, had aqueducts. I resolved to move there, or Whiterun, before the year was out.

The people in Dawnstar were nice, but Skald reminded me of Tagg too much for comfort. Luckily, everyone but him seemed sensible enough to get to know, so I could bear it for the time being.

I still had scars littering my body, though I could barely remember each one. It didn't matter.

My stomach was full, the next day would be the 1[sup]st[/sup] of Sun's Dawn. Winter was ending, I had a stack of history books on my bedside table – at the discrete courtesy of the Jarl's court wizard, Madena – and my whole life ahead of me.

Yes, there were whispers of strife, of battles and "Thalmor" and someone named Stormcloak, while I sat in the inn and let Erandur see to my person, but those weren't my problems. If trouble came knocking, I'd show trouble what real trouble was, but right then, nude and lying in a warm inn on the edge of a brand new world, a wide, happy smile lit up my face.

I'd won my war, killed a god, and could finally rest. It felt good. So what if there were troubles? Someone else could deal with them.

"Fuck you, Contessa," I said to the air, still grinning, and snuggled into my furs for a well-deserved sleep.